Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The Fatman Chronicles Days 1 and 2

I actually started Fatquest 2 yesterday morning. It seems that No-work Monday is a good day to get started on new projects, because not only did I embark upon this new sickeningly health endeavor, but I also cleaned my room, did my laundry, wrote an article for a website collaboration, and started two more short stories.

If only I never had to work. Imagine all I could accomplish!

So I woke up at 8:00 A.M., and went outside for a jog. At 8:03 A.M., I returned home, having twisted my knee and ankle on the curb at the end of my driveway. In the long trek from my front door to the asphalt of the road upon which I live, I came to a realization. That realization was that the pair of New Balance gym shoes that have been a part of my life since college are no longer fit to serve in the Fatman army. They were there with me through several hundred rounds of Frisbee golf. They pounded the pavement as I ran from the homeless man in Clifton who thought I was his long lost son, and they sat patiently with me as I finished the last final of my college career. They have served me well. I could feel my throat clenching and I fought back tears as I carried them to the garbage bin behind my house and I say a silent goodbye as I turned my back on my trust, cracked leather companions. In the distance I could hear somebody playing taps gently.

The death of Ye Olde Snaekers meant that I needed to go out to the store to pick up a new pair. Naturally, I procrastinated for most of the day, and when my roommate woke up at 5:00 in the afternoon, we decided to play another game of Frisbee golf and then make our way over to DSW in search of discount shoes. Chad settled on a pair of Airwalks that will likely break down into threads within a month, and I settled upon a shiny new pair of New Balance 500 cross trainers. They were on sale for $38.50, which is slightly less than what I paid for a gallon of gas. What a deal!

When we got home, I decided to take my new shoes out for a test run. I made sure to exit through the front door, however, so I wouldn’t have to listen to the muffled cries of my old shoes as they waited for a slow and painful death, which will come this Thursday when the garbage man arrives and grinds them to a pulp.

The walk was a good one. I went down Ferris to Karl, turned north, then crossed the street at the light and headed west towards Maize avenue. Now, it was my intention to turn at the first street, make a quick jaunt around the small neighborhood, and return home poste haste. I had played Frisbee golf earlier, mind you, and I didn’t want to risk injuring myself, thus facing an early end to the Fatquest.

Fatman Tip #1: An injury early on in your Fatquest will almost assuredly break your spirit and will leave you with at least a week of time to sit on the couch, eat Doritos, and contemplate how abysmally stupid this whole weight loss idea really is. Avoid injury at all costs, especially early on. It spells death for any burgeoning weight loss adventurer, leaving you at the mercy of fast food and high sodium beverages.

Those of you who know me best know that I am not good with directions. I was never a Boy Scout, I rarely understand road signs and, to me, maps are about as helpful as Britney Spears lyrics written in Chinese. I once got lost driving home from work in my hometown of Cincinnati and spent three hours tooling around the seedier sections of Over the Rhine, constantly swearing at myself for missing my turn.

So it should come as no surprise to you that I got lost and spent an hour and a half wandering around a cookie cutter neighborhood spewing obscenities and avoiding traffic, which whizzed by at excessively high rates of speed. I eventually made it home shortly before 1am and, if my calculations are correct, I probably walked nearly 6 miles.

That isn’t bad for a fat man!

Today, I took a stroll around the perimeter of Easton during my lunch break. After play practice this evening, I came home and walked what I believe will be my usual path: two parallel streets right next to my house that run between Karl and Cleveland Ave. It’s a three and a half mile walk and it took me only an hour and 5 minutes to cover that distance. There is little traffic, which means I can walk on the asphalt in the middle of the street (thus avoiding upended sidewalks and unseen ditches).

When I got home this evening, my hat was drenched in sweat and my legs ached in that strange way that lets you know that, while they enjoyed the exercise, they probably could have put up with a little bit more.

Tomorrow, I’m shooting for 55 minutes. If things go well, I might add another mile by the end of the month. I might also try purchasing some handweights for lifting in the morning. And pushups! All of this, coupled with the salad and vegetables I recently purchased from the Kroger Deli, should put me well onto the narrow path of sickening healthiness that is my new and vastly improved Fatquest 2.

The Me

I'm a bald man with bad eyesight. I'm 5'11" and I eat chili with reckless abandon. I'm a Cincinnati Reds fan and lover of literature. I once tackled a midget. I work with computers but my computer rarely works. My ears ring, my feet hurt, and most popular music will make my toenails curl if the weather is right. I am hopeless when it comes to understanding women or economics or why the sky is blue instead of some other color. I enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of rain in the forest. I believe in God, but I sometimes wonder whether He believes in me. I watch television on Wednesdays and I listen to the radio when I'm in my car. My baseball coach used to tell me that I ran so slow he had to time me with a calendar and my band director once said I could be a professional cornet player if only I'd practice. I am madly in love with my wife and she is madly in love with the original CSI. I wake up each morning with a smile on my face because, even if it's cold and grey and rainy and dreary, the first thing I see in the morning is her face, and it is the most beautiful site in the world; especially after I put on my glasses.